W00t! Seven reviews, you people are the best! Especially VANxTANGO and And yes I do drink tea who have both reviewed more than once, and new reviewer Ravenclaw Steph.
starts dancing
Sorry, I'm kind of hyper due to End-of-SAT's-exams, and a shocking conclusion to a CSI episode! How dare the FBI be so horrible to Grissom? And how dare we flirt with the random bone woman, after all the supposed him-and-Sarah stuff!
I really shouldn't talk about CSI, i should be talking about the story. Ok Breaths Well, i quite like this chappie (even if no one else does, mwahahahah...) because we get to see a bit more of 'Frank being very angry' which is always good! Also I swear more continuing of THE QUESTION,even ifI can't promise the answer (though everyone whose ever reads the books sort of knows what it'll be). Well, read and you'll see...
Even for December it was chilly. In fact it wasn't chilly, it wasn't even cold; it was completely and utterly freezing. The pair were squashed together, partly due to lack of space and partly for warmth, keeping a close eye on one of the side doors. The exit was meant to be on Rebekah, Claire and Tom's patch, but with four back doors and only three of them they'd deemed it the least a threat and left it unguarded. They, of course, had no idea about the watchers in the bushes.
Their breath was forming in clouds in front of them, yet they daren't make a magical fire in case it gave their location away. Ali was breathing on her bare hands and rubbing them together, trying to get some feeling back into the tips.
"Here," said Frank, taking off his gloves and throwing them at her, "You can wear these."
"Thanks," said Ali catching them, "but don't you want them?"
"Naw," he answered, shaking his head and sticking his hands in his jacket pocket, "I'll be alright."
Smiling gratefully, she put them on and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Um…Ali." Frank cleared his throat. "Now we've got time to kill I was wondering if I could ask you something?"
"What?" she enquired, taking her head back up and turning to look at him.
"The thing is, I've been thinking, and I was wondering if-" he paused, half-expecting somebody to interrupt him again.
"If," she prompted.
"I was wondering, if you'd marry me?"
Ali's jaw dropped and her eyes swelled. She was, there was no other word for it, totally gob smacked.
"I, uh, merm." She struggled to get her mouth to work well enough for her to answer. "I-" But before she could get the words out, the door they were watching burst open and a couple of Death Eaters came running into the night.
The pair ducked down as far as they could go and watched the scene through holes in the thorny brambles.
"There's noneout here," called one after a quick look round, "We can make a break for it this way."
"Where are they? There must be loads for them to have enough power to put an anti-apparate jinx round the whole place?" said the other.
"What I don't get is how they found out about the meeting here anyway?" muttered the first; "They must have got a tip off from someone."
Both were dressed in their customary black, though they had their hoods down. They were too far away to make out their faces, but their tone was definitely worried.
"Someone should inform the Dark Lord we have a traitor in our mist," said one darkly.
"Well we can worry about that later," broke in the other one, "first let's get everyone out. I'm guessing we've got less than twenty minutes before those bloody ministry puppets come blasting their way through." Both disappeared back in, pulling the door almost closed.
But not quite.
Seeing their chance Frank and Ali leapt from their hiding place and sprinted to the entrance. Quietly heaving the heavy wood open they snuck through. The room they were standing in was small and poorly lit, but it had another door on the opposite side. This was ajar and candlelight was spilling from the corridor it led to. The sounds of shouting and hurrying footsteps came from close by. Ali in the lead, the couple ran forward silently. Sticking her head round the door, Ali searched the outer corridor for signs of Death Eaters. A pair of cloaked figures were at one end of the corridor, evidently the ones they'd seen outside. As they turned the corner and vanished from sight, Ali and Frank slipped out of the door and made their way along the worn carpet. There were various doors at odd moments along the brightly lit walkway, some were open, and some were not. The sound of raised voices came from behind some of the closed ones, and Death Eaters could be seen in huddled in groups talking fitfully as they ran past. They only managed to prevent being seen by sticking to the skirting boards and casting weak 'You-See-Me-Not' spells. They daren't use stronger ones for fear the enemy would sense their magic. All was going fine for two or three minutes.
And then disaster struck. Just as they were only a couple of metres away from the end of the corridor, an un-masked Death Eater turned the corner. His eyes narrowed when he saw who it was and he opened his mouth to raise the alarm, but he was far too slow. Frank's quick wand work meant he was on the floor in seconds.
In order to keep their presence hidden they knew they'd need to stash the unconscious figure. Taking their chances they pushed open the nearest door, hoping against hope their wouldn't be the equivalent of the sixth Roman Legion in there. There luck was with them; the place was empty except for one, whose back was to the door. Ali stunning spell sent him crashing before he'd even noticed they were there. The pair dragged the body in and rolled it into a corner next to the other one. Wiping his brow with a sleeve, Frank looked at Ali.
"What are we going to do? They're swarming around out there; we won't get three metres without being noticed."
Ali didn't reply, she was looking at the sleeping figures on the floor and a smile spread slowly across her face.
"I think I've got a plan…"
Five minutes, and a quick clothes change later, Frank and Alice stumbled back into the corridor. Their hoods were up, but a well-trained eye would quite easily spot that this pair were no Dark Lord supporters. They just hoped in all this panic nobody would be looking too closely; nor that anyone would find the now half dressed Death Eaters still snoozing quite happily just off the side corridor.
Their progress was slowed as Ali tripped over the hem of her robes. Again.
"How and I supposed to walk in this thing?" she whimpered bitterly through her mask as Frank helped her up, "This Death Eater must be three times bigger than me!"
"Sorry about that," Frank replied, "we didn't really have time to get them tailored."
With her face hidden it was impossible to tell, but Frank was sure she was sticking her tongue out.
They had reached a huge hall that had lanterns hanging from all the walls. The scene was chaotic; with what must have been two hundred Death Eaters swarming about and relaying orders.
"So what's the plan?" asked Ali quietly, her mouth was dry at the prospect of being surrounded by so many Dark wizards.
"Mingle I'm guessing," supplied Frank. They nodded and started walking, keeping a close eye on each other as they knew it would be almost impossible to tell each other apart in their new attire. Ali felt her self being jostled and shoved as she waded through the sea of black. Their was shouting and calling all around and a sentry standing in the thick of things was trying desperately to get himself heard. He was failing miserably.
"Oi, you." A hand had grabbed hold Ali's shoulder and she whipped round. She had almost punched the guy's lights out, before she remembered who she was meant to be.
"Um, yes."
"Did you not 'ear what you keep bein' told? Get in yer line for countin' and stop messin' aroun'." He pushed her forward, and looking closer, she realised the mass of Death eaters were slowly organising themselves into untidy rows. They must have been divisions or ranks or something. Ali made a signal at Frank and she joined her, they tagged onto the end of one of the shorter queues, glad no one could see their faces, as their worried expressions would have definitely given them away.
"QUIET!" screamed a pale-faced, scarred Death Eater from a platform at the front. Others echoed the command all around the room. Gradually the hall fell silent and masked persons began walking up and down the rows, counting. Ali and Frank were in the middle of their row and the were labelled '14' and '15' as their counter walked past. Though no one else was speaking, the room was far from quiet. There was the rustling of robes, the sound of footsteps, and, loudest of all, the tension that hummed through the room like a ferocious storm of bees. The heat of the room was unbearable. There were so many bodies cramped together that it totally compensated for the cold outside. Ali was sweating, though she didn't put it all down to the temperature.
Their rows leader was walking back up, recounting. He had obviously noticed something was amiss and considering two extras had somehow appeared on his line this wasn't surprising.
"Numbers!" shrieked the scarred Death Eater as the sentries were lined up at the heads of their lines again. Each bowed their head as they answered. It was obvious the man on stage was someone to be respected.
"Complete Sir."
"Complete Sir."
"Complete Sir."
"Complete Sir."
"Complete Sir."
"Complete Sir."
The same answer rang out over and over as they travelled quickly up the room. But was all was brought to confusion as a different reply was given.
"One missing Sir."
"WHAT?" exploded the man on stage. He was quite small so it was surprising how much noise he could make.
"We," the man who was answering sounded terrified, "we only have twenty nine here Sir, and we should have thirty."
"Well, who is missing?"
"I'm, not s-sure Sir."
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" he yelled furiously, "FIND OUT!"
"Yes Sir." He began hurriedly walking back down his row. Pulling off the hoods of the Death Eaters who had them up and barking orders at those nearby to verify they were whom they said.
The number collecting began again. The customary 'Complete Sir' rang out, before another interruption was heard.
"We have one missing too."
"ANOTHER ONE?" Screamed the man, whose face had turned a dangerous shade of Beetroot.
"I'm afraid s-so Sir."
If it were possible for people to spontaneously combust, then the man on the stage would have been a gonner. The veins on his head were sticking out in long blue streaks.
"HAS ANYONE ELSE GOT UNFILLED ROWS?
Ali felt her stomach sink to her toes as the figure at the front of her and Frank's row stepped forward.
"Sir. We've got two extra."
The beetroot man's eyes opened wide.
"ARE YOUR EXTRA TWO NOT THE ONES THAT ARE MISSING? WHO IS IN THE WRONG ROW?"
No one stepped forward.
He let out a howl of rage.
"YOU!" he pointed at their counter, "FIND OUT WHO IS NOT MEANT TO BE THERE! FIND OUT AND KILL THEM!"
"Yes Sir." He moved off up the line, staring into the face of each person as he went along. He looked especially hard at those who had been wearing their hoods. They were, after all, the most likely to have something to hide. Ali was trembling as he got closer and closer. Why had she made them come along? Why hadn't she listened to Michael in the first place? Why had she dragged Frank with her? He was going to die and it would be all her fault. And she hadn't even giving him an answer.
The man next to her was giving his name. The other nearby Death Eaters were nodding to show they recognised him. The counter moved on, he was looking straight at her.
"Take off your hood."
Ali didn't move.
"I said take off your hood."
Silence.
He grabbed hold of her hood and made to wrench it from her head. She struggled, trying to stop him but it slipped from her eyes and fell to her neck. Her scared face came into view and there were several gasps of recognition. It suddenly struck Ali how stupid she'd been. Their run in with the Dark Lord would not have gone untold.
"You-" hissed a Death Eater from behind them. He lowered his hood and Ali recognised him instantly. Bartemius Crouch.
"KILL HER!" exclaimed the stage man in a fit of rage, "KILL HER, KILL HER, KILL HER!"
The hands of the counter clamped round her throat. They were tightening. Her head was clouding, her mind was blank. She was, dying.
The pressure was suddenly released. The man had let go, though considering Frank had just leapt on top of him, this wasn't all that surprising. He was pummelling his fists straight into his head and back; he didn't even attempt to use his wand. In two words: Blind Rage.
This simple, if violent, action killed two birds with one stone. You see if you combine the direction the counting man was facing, and the considerate force Frank hit him with, then you'd understand how exactly Crouch ended up under the pair of brawling figures. You'll also understand why exactly it took so long for the other Death Eaters to react. They were already in a big enough flap about the presence of fifty or so ministry aurors just outside, so two Death Eaters trying to readily to kill each other would have taken a while to settle in.
The Death Eater who'd been on the other side of Frank was the first to react. He raised his wand and began to mutter an incantation, but Ali wrenched it out of his grasp and threw it as far as she could muster. And with this simple action, all hell broke lose.
Anyone whose ever read the Wicca/Sweep series will notice several refernces to it in this chapter, it may be completly wrong when it comes to HP, but hey, lets call it artistic license.
I'll update as soon as possible, i promise.
Fin, Noggin, Duuuuuuuuuuuuude...